


the forever we all waiting for;

by JeonNana



Category: Produce 101 (TV), UP10TION, X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon, Fluff, I like soft thing, M/M, it’s so soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-09-30 18:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20451698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeonNana/pseuds/JeonNana
Summary: I give up, this is another drabble compilation.[1] SeungPyo • I Woke Up for Another Dream - it’s morning, Seungwoo woke up to Pyo’s sleeping face.[2] HeeSang • Do You Know How Many Fireflies Needed for Me to Sleep Without You? - Ring ring, please pick up[3] YoCha • Who Owns the Night - Junho’s Yohan[4] HyukWoo • Will You Forgive Me if I Love too Much? - Jinhyuk love his little haenami[5] HyukWoo • Will You Let Me if I want More? - Jinwoo wanted Jinhyuk to be selfish.[6] GyulRem • Imagine: If I Kiss You - Hangyul is not a closed clause[7] HunSang • Boulder - Kim Sihun create a gap between him and Lee Eunsang for a reason....





	1. I Woke Up for Another Dream;

**Author's Note:**

> They pull baby step on their matter, playing push and pull, every achievement comes like the best present Seungwoo ever received.
> 
> Or alternatively, Han Seungwoo woke up besides Son Dongpyo for the first time.

Happiness is waking up to the bright sun that is bright enough to make you think your comforter is too stuffy, but not too bright it will blind you. Usually for Han Seungwoo it’s that easy, woke up, looking how the sky today might be from the gap of his curtain and smiles to himself, padding lightly to the kitchen to make a good cup of coffee, praising on how good the bean quality is, or how he was lucky to get the last bag from the artisant coffee shop down the street. Seungwoo doesn’t usually eat anything at the morning, save it for small snack bars and just opted to eat something more filling on his break.

He doesn’t smoke either, have been quitting the activities a long time ago, so his morning would usually just him leaning by the windowsill, admiring the morning dew’s job decorating his little window with droplets.

It’s usually that easy, quiet and calm morning reserved only for the busiest soul, knowing damn well when the clock strikes at nine he would forget that he knew rest is possible. Afterall, the shop is getting busier day by day as the business growing steadily.

But today, Han Seungwoo woke up to gap on his curtain vanished and he can’t deduce how the sky might roll today. Also it was too warm from the usual, another breathing making the air taste different, it’s richer, it’s nicer, he smells something like lemon.

He pushed down the comforter, smiles to himself a sated, thin smile when mop of black hair pops out; it have hands, stretches to hug his sides, and it have cute button nose too, nuzzle right onto his chest. Seungwoo’s heart did a thing, like a small jump and it proceed to thump faster. Son Dongpyo have always been the cutest when he sleep, let out tiny purr when he’s content, will whines when you shakes him up.

Seungwoo probably never thought this day would happen, for him to wake up with a hug and a heart pressed close to his. They spent time long enough besides each other, but never spent a night with each other’s company, although Dongpyo claim he’s a good cuddler, it just never came to his mind that he’d thought to himself ‘he's indeed a good cuddler’. But it happened, and it makes Seungwoo held his breath, so that his heart would calm even for a bit, in afraid he’ll wake up the younger just by the wild thump of his heart.

Thank goodness Dongpyo didn’t wake up, just shift a bit and Seungwoo instinctively draw him closer by the hips, fingers brushing the skin where his sleep shirt bunched a bit. He managed to get Dongpyo snuggle into his collarbone, nuzzling his warm nose and lips just above the written words on his chest. He can feel Dongpyo kisses him lightly, maybe he just puckering his lips, maybe he did kiss him by the collarbone.

Sometimes he can’t wait for the day he’d be able to pressed his face close to Dongpyo’s without having his heart skipping more than a beat and Dongpyo’s face home to thousand roses that he’d look away instantly. They pull baby step on their matter, playing push and pull, every achievement comes like the best present Seungwoo ever received, and he’ll grin ear to ear whenever Dongpyo brave himself to be close, to be more intimate. Something in the back of Seungwoo’s head telling him to sprint in this race, to take what his and secure it real and good, but Dongpyo teach him how to walk leisurely at the park with hand on their own pocket, but shoulder pressed against each other.

Maybe Seungwoo can kiss Dongpyo right here right now, by the lips where he always wanted it to be. Or maybe he can wake him up because it’s already eight and the shop open at late at nine fifteen.

He did neither, but to press their foreheads together. Dongpyo is still on his slumber, or maybe he just pretend he did, so Seungwoo can whisper the word up close and ever so quietly, telling him how much he loves him.

Maybe, maybe one day Seungwoo would kiss those lips whether Dongpyo is awake or not. But today Dongpyo is awake on his disguise to listen to Seungwoo’s faint _‘I love you, good morning’._

.


	2. Do You Know How Many Fireflies Needed for Me to Sleep Without You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything becomes really quiet after Minhee moves out.

Ring ring

_—silence._

Ring ring

_‘He still didn’t pick up’_

Ring ring

“Hello,”

_‘Ah, hey, he picked it up. Now talk’_

Now talk.

He didn’t.

Everything had become silent since the day Minhee moved out of the flat, moving far away bringing not just his stuff but also memories, and unfinished business, and Lee Eunsang. Usually he’d be mad if he got stuffed in the same box as other baggage, for he always declaring himself as independent, but knowing too well that at night he’d searched for the same touch. But Eunsang remember how he joke about how he would learn contortions in order to fit in the suitcase, so Minhee could bring Eunsang with him, playing on the fringe above his reddened ear when he denies that he’d do that, even though if he could shrunk to a pocket size, his life would definitely be easier.

After his moving, Eunsang rely on Minhee’s slight husky voices in the morning over the receiver, getting familiar with the static noises and apologize when the other had run to no signal area while they were on the phone. It’s been a while since Eunsang see him without his skin tainted by harsh light and the crappy quality of their video call, makes Minhee’s hair blend into his face, and his face looks white like he was dead.

“You’re there? Did you call me by accident?”

He did not, but he still doesn't want to talk.

Static on his ears have been so familiar that he almost forgot how Minhee’s actual voice sounds like, like a thousand bees buzzing in his ears and he’s sick of it. All he wanted is Minhee’s gentle voice again on his ear, whispering things the world doesn’t need to know, leaving fleeting kisses that would make his world upside down. The buzzing continue, Minhee’s voice doesn’t get clearer, his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach.

“I can make a song while waiting for you to pick up,” he giggles, everything stretched so wide the moment Eunsang look at the now permanently locked door of Minhee’s old room, space, time, his thought of leaving thousands cheesy lines on their chat. Time curves violently when there’s two hours gap between them, they didn’t talk morning when it’s night on the others, but Minhee talked when Eunsang wasn’t there anymore and seven in the morning doesn’t started with a kiss on the forehead.

“I can finish an amber room replica, again, while waiting for Seungyoun hyung to picked up,” he is smart, Eunsang knew very well he’d fell for that one.

Oh he do, for everything good in this world, it’s Minhee’s subtleness.

“I’m joking. Baby, how’s your day?”

He’s in love, with buzzing inside his voice, but gently cradling him with love.

Static on his ears have become familiar, also the time difference between them, and of course Minhee’s countless apology when their call got cut off due to no signal area. But Eunsang doesn’t mind waiting, with his chin tucked above his pillow, in pajamas under the comforter they used to share, waiting for the ringing to stop, and finally, finally, Minhee’s voice.

.

_(“I totally can make a song while waiting for you to pick up.”_

_“Really? I’m curious.”_

_“It’s a song about me, that wanting you back.”_

_“I never go anywhere, just a little bit far from you,”_

_“I know.”_

_“Hang on for a bit, yeah?”)_

.


	3. Who Owns the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junho’s Yohan

Everyone think Yohan owns Junho.

That might be right, Yohan _owns_ Junho, in a sense that Junho is too pretty for the world thus he needed to be kept well, and Yohan keep him safe and well. Junho, as far as everyone knows, is content of being well kept like the prettiest porcelaine, well mannered on his seat by Yohan’s side, holding Yohan’s hand when they go anywhere, would call Yohan whenever things happened—also when there’s nothing he’d still call for Yohan. In a way, Yohan owns Junho.

It might be all too true for the world, Junho likes being kept well, not being showcased but held dearly and watched carefully, he’d smile beatifically when Yohan’s eyes on him, he’d display the classic way of nods, just to make Yohan smiles back at him. Because it’s easier like that, it’s easier to think Junho is obedient, Junho is unknowingly fell too hard to their national’s center.

But also Junho knows how should he tilts his head so Yohan would look at him differently, how many steps far away from Yohan so he’d chase him and held him close again, how many taps on the shoulder until Yohan realize it was missing a tap and he’d scrunch his nose in annoyance—wondering if he did wrong to Junho. Junho knew it too well of how Yohan likes to be cuddled every morning, sometimes make it absent for two and three days and he’d come right to Junho’s cramped, three person room, asking if he’s alright. Only then Junho flash an attitude, ‘you miss me hyung?’ ‘Yohan hyung is lonely?’, and he’d be flustered. Cute. Junho’s.

Junho knows how Yohan likes his hand to be held yet he said Yohan knows too well about how Junho likes to be held. He spoke the thing Yohan want to hear, about pretty little Junho. Yohan’s Junho.

“He’s so cute, he never leaves my side, even when we’re in the same room he won’t be far from me”

Theatrically, he laughs after the statement. Of course. Yohan’s Junho.

(Junho’s Yohan.)

.


	4. Will You Forgive Me if I Love too Much;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he wanted is his haenami to be happy

When the night arrives, Jinhyuk tucked under his blanket, trying to shoo away the ruckus on the room when Byungchan drop a water bottle and rather than to go to the janitor room to fetch a mop, the rest of the room dabbing their brain away. It was always like that, MOVE team and their little to no brain, and here he are, acting like he owns a couple of working brain cells when in reality he has none. But it’s enough to blame Seungyoun’s high pitched laughter as the sole reason he excused himself out of the party, although it wasn’t even his concern, nor Hangyul’s legs kicking his side when he climbs to Jinhyuk’s bed trying to drag him to the party.

No, it wasn’t that.

The hall was pretty much quiet, the perfect place to sort his thought. His mind wandering far and south, when he dropped himself on the wooden bench just besides men’s bathroom, hearing water flowing and thought to himself who is the dumbass that leave the tap slightly open.

His Haenami used to be as reckless as that, leaving the faucet running when he takes his wipes and Jinhyuk needs to warn him not once but many times. But his haenami would smile and giggles and told Jinhyuk how much Jinhyuk resemble his father, not by appearance nor age but just as how doting Jinhyuk can be toward the younger. And it’s just because his haenami is so, so small compared to the other trainee, and it makes Jinhyuk clenches his heart tighter seeing how Jinwoo can be much, much smaller than he actually is. Jinwoo think calling him appa would make a good watch for anyone desperately trying to find a bond between them, but Jinhyuk needs nothing sort of those, he was much more than his haenami’s #2 appa.

He’s sure of that.

His and his haenami’s bond created since the very first time Jinhyuk laid his eyes on him, full cheek, crescent eyes, young and naive attitude, and soon enough he was stirred inside the whirl of wanting Jinwoo to be close with him, yet contemplating the younger’s comfort. Afterall, Jinhyuk was already known long before Produce have even begin, and it was natural if his haenami think highly of him. But oh, oh you don’t know how much Jinhyuk willing to be thrown out of heaven just so he can hold Jinwoo dearly.

Jinhyuk didn’t even realize people was comparing his and his cute, naive haenami’s bond to Seungwoo and his love of being pushed and pulled by Dongpyo like they were in a competition. They weren’t. Not in the slightest bit Jinhyuk wants to win the award of best appa, when everything he wanted just his haenami to be happy, no matter what the result. If he didn’t make it, if his haenami makes it, then so be it.

“Appa...”

He looks up, perked a smile to his little haenami whose watching him carefully. No matter how hard things could be, his haenami would call him with those sweet, daring voice. He would make Jinwoo call him again, again, and again, in the morning when they wake up, in the midst of crowd of cafeteria, when Jinhyuk pay a visit to Ippo Ippo team’s room. He’d make Jinwoo calls him in every tone, desperate when he thinks he’s not good enough, happy when he got extra serving because his haenami needs to grow healthier, mad when Minhee just don’t seems to understand him, and he’d make him call him appa for the longest time possible.

Then so be it, when the night arrives, Jinhyuk tucked under Jinwoo’s blanket, and he’ll whisper ‘my haenami’ again and again. His haenami is safe under his arms, no competition, no bad edits, no hate, just him, Lee Jinhyuk, and his little haenami.

.


	5. Will You Let Me if I Want More?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I selfish?

“I know!” He claimed loudly, finger extrude the highest of the ceiling above them might reach, then pointing to Jinhyuk’s nose. “You can’t refuse me!” He said in proud tone, ever so brightly, ever so cheerfully, everything that makes Lee Jinwoo, Lee Jinwoo. His full cheek blooms, deciding to claims that Lee Jinhyuk—the ever so poised and dependable Lee Jinhyuk, have one big fatal weak spot, something that Jinwoo would utilize just like how he makes the best out of everything. Jinhyuk gather himself again after the shock, but his thought landed on the side of Jinwoo’s mouth, a foamy cream from his milkshake and the naivety that paints across his hopeful eyes. He indistinctly said yes, at the pit of his heart those answers were always yes, were never a no, and even without Jinwoo even have to said it, yes, he cannot refuse Jinwoo.

Not even the slightest bit, Jinhyuk thought to himself, even if he has the chance to do so, he’d still ought to do nothing about it. Jinhyuk take one wipes from the box, and reach out to him, Jinwoo stood confidently above his little confident feet, a feet that steps on Jinhyuk’s many time in wrong timing. Jinhyuk wipes the side of Jinwoo’s mouth, not saying anything—he already said that, at the pit of his heart when it already ‘yes, I can’t refuse you’ all along. Blue sky down onto him when Jinwoo jut his lips a little, expecting any reaction that might paint the older’s face, but no, Jinhyuk sips on his coffee. Poised.

“Oh,” Jinwoo mutters and back down obediently when Jinhyuk gestures him to do so, compose yourself, Jinhyuk said in silent manner of rolling his eyes to the seat. Jinwoo taps his finger, trying to find the lost words. “Appa...” his voice is nice, young, naive, full of expectation.

“Yes?” Jinhyuk gave him the attention he wanted, now he’s calmed down and won’t shout, Jinhyuk learns that quickly. Because his Jinwoo is too easy to read, his haenami won’t be that much of an open book for the others but it’s Jinhyuk, and Jinhyuk is good with reading.

“Appa, am I selfish?” He just asked the same question three days ago, in the practice room when his back pressed against Jinhyuk’s chest, he was sweating so Jinhyuk wipes his napes and Jinwoo smiles all teethy smile. At first Jinhyuk didn’t answer, saving the thought for later, but then he demands, again and again, after shower, after dinner. ‘Appa, was I selfish?’ And there’s nothing wrong with being selfish, Jinhyuk realize, but his haenami wouldn’t want that answer.

“No you’re not—okay, maybe just a little bit,” he grins coyly, pressing his thumb and index finger tight, there weren’t no space in it because that’s how much his haenami ever be selfish.

“Are you selfish?”

Jinhyuk is selfish, he wanted everything, he wanted every inch of his little haenami, all of his time, he wants national producer to love his haenami and his haenami only. Jinhyuk realizes, that though only him that can love his little haenami more than anyone else could muster, his haenami would one day sail across the sky without him—and oh, oh, that thought, he hates him as much as the idea of ‘no one can take my haenami from me’. Oh, he’s the selfish one. But would it be something mattered?

“I don’t think so,” Jinwoo rolls to his laps, cradled in the safety of Jinhyuk’s body, shielded from the cruel world. Only then Jinhyuk assured that everything’s good and everything is in place, when his haenami yanked Jinhyuk’s hand from the keyboard of his laptop and linked it to his own. His selfish haenami.

“Appa, be selfish for once, be like Jinwoo,” he spoke like he’s five years old, and Jinhyuk wanted to believe that’s the age when Jinwoo stopped growing. Jinhyuk plays with his hair, soft and healthy, his smile blooms when Jinhyuk spoke thousand words from his eyes. _You’re not selfish, you’re my love, you’re everything that’s good in the world, but you’ll grow up and realize that you’ve been naively selfish, just a little bit, youth mistake, it’s okay, but no, you’re not selfish. You are, though, loved._

“How?” 

His haenami looking up, forehead exposed and Jinhyuk bends down to kiss it. “Be like Jinwoo, be selfish once in a while,” he repeats, voice tended so gently. He’ll grow to be a fine man, Jinhyuk believe.

“I already am,” Jinhyuk said, and he can’t be wrong in the slightest bit. “Much more will be chaos, and Haenami doesn’t like chaos, does he?” He’d kissed that forehead again and again, after shower, before parting ways in the hall, just after his haenami woke up. Jinwoo shook his head, hide under the crease on Jinhyuk’s oversized sweater.

“But Jinwoo wants appa to be selfish to Jinwoo,” oh, love, Jinhyuk thought, wouldn’t it be nice if he can actually do that.

“Much more then we’ll live in a chaos,”

Jinwoo breathes of Jinhyuk’s perfume through his sweater, hand cling tightly, selfishly around his hips. “Is it a chaos, if Appa is here with Jinwoo?”

And thus, Jinhyuk learns to be selfish a little bit more. First step, kidnapping Jinwoo from his room for a night.

.


	6. Imagine: If I Kiss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hangyul is not a closed clause but Hyeongjun still confused.

Hyeongjun glad Hangyul is not a closed clause.

Because if he is, then Hyeongjun would be the lost one, imagine every thing the older had initiate, all the selfie game, the ‘hey let me take your photos’ game, the ‘we-almost-kissed’ game, the ‘look, eventhough we’re almos the same stature, you’re still small’ game, and until now Hangyul had not said a thing, not even ‘hey you know I did this for something’ or maybe the simplest one ‘you’re cute’. But Hangyul is not a close claused, he have never been, always the merriest always the easiest one to read—as if he himself does not, but that’s just what he is, Song Hyeongjun, your painfully honest kid. But there’s bravery in being wide open, namely fearless, so Hyeongjun appreciate him, by acknowledging everything.

They have packed and ready to leave when Hyeongjun do his routine: waking everyone up, except Dongpyo because he’s just another morning star that hang a little bit too high, blinding, and already on his way to bother the hell out of Eunsang and his favorite hyung, Seungwoo. Hyeongjun steps in into Hangyul’s room, finding the one he’s looking for still tucked under his white comforter, meanwhile the other, the half soul of him, already seen cradling Wooseok in front of the TV though both half-asleep. And without Seungyoun in his way, Hyeongjun climbs into Hangyul’s bed, the initial plan discarded, he card his finger through Hangyul’s hair.

Mesmerized, Hyeongjun maybe accidentally wished to the star that Hangyul would be more upfront about everything, and Hangyul is the star. Hangyul open his eyes when Hyeongjun had lost into stroking the latter’s hair, playing with the bang.

“New way to wake me up?” Hangyul’s voice hoarsed, deep and reverberating throughout the room. Hyeongjun somehow find telltale of softness when Hangyul reach his cheek to ground himself to reality—if that makes any sense to anyone (Hyeongjun is his reality, no?).

“Yeah.” Hyeongjun’s voice lingers sweetly, only to slip himself under the same comforter as Hangyul hold him on his back, pulling him closer. “Or no.”

“How much do we have?” Hangyul’s voice different when he’s talking to him, it’s not the baby-talk like he did to Dohyon, not the ‘hey bro’ talk to Seungyoun and Yohan, it feels different—_it is_ different. Hyeongjun just wished Hangyul never realize so he won’t change.

“Two hour, I guess.”

And in the midst of half asleep, Hyeongjun swear Hangyul had kissed him somehow, their face aren’t far and Hangyul tried his best to not breathing too loud. But he just knew it, the chaste kiss, filled with uncertainty and doubt, but nonetheless, sweet.

Hyeongjun needs to return it back sometimes later, he have to.


	7. Boulder;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> KIM SIHOON X LEE EUNSANG
> 
> The gap closes

“Hello,” Eunsang walk pass by him, bringing a plastic bag with chip and bottle of coke.

“Hello, great work today,” He chirped back, plainly.

They usually exchange small talks after practice, sitting against the clean wide mirror of BNM studio’s practice room with gatorade or coke in their hands. It usually never too personal or too deep; preserving the rest of their stamina to go back to dorm instead of spending it on unnecessary venting, they have no time for that. Sihoon doesn’t mind either way, being the usually straightforward guy.

“About today’s coreography,” Eunsang suddenly say, in between crunch of chips in his teeth and Sihoon’s gulp on a coke, a hanging end that kills silent intrigue the older, as he look away to the other trainee besides him.

“Do you think it’ll work out? The original song, I mean.” Yeah. They have been working on new, ever so original, ever so daring song that the four of them—BNM trainees—will bring in the opening of Produce X, when everyone else probably covering celeb five to be funny, singing some overly popular song to be recognized, or just downright doing stupid thing just so they will be remembered. And as much as Sihoon likes being different, they will still be indifferent in term of skill and popularity, just faces among other faces, cute boys in the midst of another cute boys, so the original song never actually matter, what matter is he need to stood out no matter what happened.

Sihoon shrugs, chugging on his coke again. “Better hope it would because if it wouldn’t ... guess Imma head home first.” He took a deep breath afterward, the air was still, after Sungjoon and Junghwan excused themselves to go back first which Sihoon knew they’d probably ended up in the nearest KFC stall, Eunsang have been the sole distraction he had.

And it’s not like he hate Eunsang or anything, but there are gap between them, the formal yes, hello, good morning, good night, great work and see you tomorrow, and the lack of more heartfelt talk, as Eunsang adamantly keeping the calm, collected image, just because he secretly scared of being judged for feeling things (or at least that was what Sihoon assume). The gap that he called the professionalisms of trainee: one shall not be too attached to the other so that they would keep being professional, because one day, probably, _probably_, one of them will walk the merry road and the other stays befriending the same mirror and the same studio. The other would be famous and the other one will fall, still trying, or worse, quitting. And maybe, both Eunsang and Sihoon just happened to stood by the same ideology.

“I mean ... yeah....” Eunsang wipe his neck with towel on his shoulder. “If it’s working and we’re advancing, promise me we’ll stick together.”

It was a futile promise, although they will, in some senses, stick together because they bring the same name to the war, and shall held onto it until one of them maybe miraculously debuting and can let go of the name and picks up the new one for five years in advanced. Sihoon looks at him, he want to coos by how Eunsang had turned soft in every day nearing the big day of Produce opening, but he held his tongue, merely because the gap between them would vanished if he ever do that. 

“Of course.”

It was the boulder he carry, the sticky note grade glue of connection, one that he can break as easy as swing of an arm, and finally, the secret of a heart.

A secret that probably fit for another story.

—

“The X position is, Brand New Music Lee Eunsang!”

One of them picks new name, the rest go home with new kind of recognition.

He guess it’s gonna be alright, there’s only two seat available on the throne for every agency, and since Sihoon doesn’t make it to the third elimination and the other two been gone since he forgot which episode, it’s either Eunsang or no one at all. Sihoon sat the on the front row, watching every tears, every cheers, every thankyou speech and every disappointed faces as well as the satisfied one. Yohan from Oui snatch the national center title with super anti-climaxed response, so Eunsang’s reaction were the one he was looking to.

He sighed, Sihoon can tell, like the boulder on his shoulder just got lifted. He didn’t cry, nor he was smiling, it much more of a ‘I’m glad it’s all finished’. Sihoon noting with none of his smiling line appeared and he was looking so, so tired to even cheers for himself, he probably wasn’t expecting this, but he do get one of the seat anyway, and it’s another win for Brand New Music. Sihoon claps his hand, he need to wait until everything is settling down, the camera is off and finally he can go there to congratulate him. For now, he notice that those boulders weren’t there anymore, instead, he looks like he’s about to collapse.

And collapse that he did.

Behind the camera, in the hall where everyone say thankyou to the other, and more empty words muttered in the line of ‘we’ll meet each other again soon!’ And ‘don’t forget me okay!’, Eunsang collapse against him, burying his face on his shoulder. “I made it,” he said, tone said otherwise. “I made it, I debut.”

“You made it,” Sihoon could only recite what’s known to the public, but not what’s known for both of them. “You’re amazing.” Eunsang clings tightly behind his well-ironed, soon-to-be-forgotten Produce X uniform, tears tainting the fabric on his shoulder.

“You weren’t there.” He probably means the throne, no other BNM boys made it and Sihoon knows the gap probably had just disintegrate by how he now rolls two, three tears on Eunsang’s uniform. “I’m gonna be lonely.”

Sihoon chuckle, desperation deep and reverbrating in his throat. “You wouldn’t, is ten people not enough? Eunsang, you’ll get the whole earth amount of fans, ain’t that exciting?” He cups Eunsang’s face by the cheek, he looks funny when he cried, because Sihoon never saw him crying at all.

“But you weren’t there.”

Sihoon weren’t there anymore, yes, since MamMam comes out in pretty disappointing score, Sihoon try to pull himself from the rest, knowing he’ll just hurt himself by staying. But he didn’t know Eunsang were hurt as much as he did. “I always am here, by your side, be the place you can rest, maybe a bit too far to actually rest your back against mine. But rest your heart and I’ll take care of it.”

The crowd’s cheer is loud, but they are silent in each other’s grasp.

—

Sihoon picks the calls when it rang the third time, BNM is kind enough to give them project so he have been nothing but busy preparing it. Caller handle forgotten when he briskly slide the receive call button, and put the phone on his ears.

“Sihoon-hyung, I want to talk, so today Minhee—“

He smiles, trotting to the corner of the room, sat down and put his back against the mirror, to imagine Eunsang’s cheery tone as if he were there besides him. And boulder slides off, the gap closed, and Eunsang is far away but his heart were close.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up @QuantumBeliever


End file.
